


Nails

by Dream_Wreaver



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, In the Camptown Rivalries Universe, Nail Polish, Not a sequel-ish, Symbolism, reverse au, the color red
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 17:44:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12822738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dream_Wreaver/pseuds/Dream_Wreaver
Summary: Since the end of the summer there hasn't been much time to meet, but then Gwen sees a color and she can't resist





	Nails

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Forestwater](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forestwater/gifts).



> I have about several thousand other projects I should be working on, but I thought of this and was like yep, this needs to be done. So, this is for Forest who is awesome and you should all find her and tell her as much. Reiteration that this takes place within the Camptown Rivalries Universe and if you haven't read that this won't make sense. So go read that if you haven't and then come back here.

Summer time was not the best time for a “girly girl” especially not if you worked in the child management industry. There were too many things kids could get into and despite her commitment to maintenance Gwen found some things had had to be sacrificed for the sake of her sanity and her wallet. Her nails had been one of them. Traditionally she liked acrylics, long and with a bit of a point on the end so that she could use them for defense if necessary. But whenever the summer started she pushed away her appointments until the camp season was over, and this past summer had been exceptionally busy with hands on work. Her poor nails wouldn’t have lasted a week in those conditions.

But, she supposed, more good had come out of it, and it wasn’t as though she had broken a nail so it wasn’t that big a deal. All the same she had truly looked forward to her end of summer mani-pedi appointment. She had patronized the salon long enough for a bit of special treatment, namely the simultaneous mani-pedi experience which made her feel far wealthier than she actually was. It was nice to feel pampered, the only way it could have gotten better was if she’d been in the middle of the spa with a mud mask on, cucumbers over her eyes, and wearing nothing but a fluffy white robe as every inch of her was attended to. It was a nice fantasy for sure, but something Gwen would have never actually wanted before… him.

David Greenwood, Cedar Scout first class and leader of Woodscout troop 818. Not to mention that as of a few weeks ago, Gwen’s boyfriend. A trio of troublemakers had brought them together, in more ways than one. They’d been lovers before a couple, and dealing with their own issues had brought them far closer than anything. And now they were giving a real relationship a shot. Speaking of which, Gwen wanted to text him and see what was going on. They’d been dealing with the aftermath of summer craziness and things had been left up in the air. She wanted to see him, more than see him. But David wasn’t really a romantic, so dates were not something she expected him to be good at.

Which was fine by her, as far as she was concerned a night home with him was just as fine as dinner at a restaurant, movie, or any other cliche the media said women wanted. Gwen was waiting for an artist to become available when she overheard a couple of other women debating the merits of traditional polish versus gel. The one arguing for the latter’s main selling point was that the gel lasted longer and broke less easily. The former argued that traditional paint was traditional for a reason. Gwen was confused, she’d always had acrylic with traditional paint and never had a problem getting it to last.

But before she could contemplate further she was called to come and pick a color. Gwen was perusing the shades, typically pinks were the ones that caught her eye, when one bold color caught her eye. It was red, blood red. Gwen liked red, it reminded her of David, and when she was reminded of David she was reminded of all the fun things that could be done with and to David.

“Are you sure you want that one miss?” the artist asked, “It’s a gel color.”

Gwen bit her lip as she thought a moment. Then, “It’s fine, I want that color.”

CC

David Greenwood alternated between working and online classes when not at the Woodscout camp. But this offseason was lonelier than most. Mostly because he’d gotten himself a girlfriend who lived in a different town, and neither of them felt they were invested enough to move in together. Not that they thought actually living together would be a problem, by any means. They had shared a cabin over the summer and while separate rooms had been a thing they hadn’t been utilized very much after they’d started sleeping together. But summer was a time when someone was distracted by the hazy golden days that were utterly incomparable to any other time in the northern hemisphere. It was one thing to share a space for the summer, it was quite another to do it for the whole year.

But still, he missed Gwen. He missed her a lot. And they lived far enough away that dates couldn’t be a common thing, not with their schedules and the prices of gas. He wanted to go see her, but he wanted to respect her space as well. They texted, among other digital activities. That should have been enough but it wasn’t. He wanted to see her without the grainy filter of a camera lens in the way, to be able to actually touch her. After getting over the issues that held her back it was the one thing he loved to do more than anything with her. He wanted caresses and touches and kisses and even hugs. He’d be content with nothing more than a night of cuddling on the couch… okay, maybe not so content but he wouldn’t force the issue if that was what she wanted out of him.

It was frustrating in more ways than one. But to add to all of it, he himself had always said he wasn’t the greatest at relationships. He was a blunt person, and the subtle nuances of navigating something like this had so often escaped him in the past, suffice it to say his track record wasn’t the best. So he didn’t know what he should do and that made him overthink everything. Should he text her? Call her? Drive over to see her? What was he supposed to do?

He was saved from this internal torment when there came a knock at his door. He wasn’t expecting anything, and the usual post had already come. So who could it be? The answer came with the opening of the door, but before he could blink Gwen swept in, slammed him against the wall, and kissed him hard.

“Gwen, I-” she cut him off, kissing him again before moving down to nibble at his neck, her fingers were already at work on the buttons of his shirt. This was going so fast he couldn’t process and his head was spinning. As much as his body was protesting his next course of action he went through with it anyways. He grabbed ahold of her shoulders and pushed her back from him. Just a bit, not too much since he was still craving this as much as she apparently was.

“Gwen, what are you doing here?” he realized after he said it how that might have come across, “Not that I’m upset by any means! I just don’t understand what brought this on.”

Gwen was panting, though she wanted to whine in frustration. But how could she explain that she had decided to go with a color that reminded her of him, and how it had led her here? How embarrassing was that? Gwen licked her lips to stall, though appreciating the disheveled sight of her boyfriend in front of her wasn’t off her list of motivations for the action either.

“Gwen?” he gently prodded.

“I-” Gwen couldn’t explain with words, she just knew they couldn’t convey the depth of emotion she needed to communicate with him. Words couldn’t, but actions certainly could. She grabbed hold of his hand and started heading deeper into the apartment.

CC

Aside from a few outdoor excursions David could honestly say that his intimate life with Gwen was pretty vanilla. The blindfold hadn’t been for pleasure on either of their parts, it had been because Gwen had been terribly insecure thanks to some nameless schmuck David wanted very much to meet so he could beat the shit out of. They’d worked past that issue, but Gwen -despite her predilection for kinky books- had never so much as hinted at wanting anything a bit more… deviant when they coupled. And yet, he now found himself restrained by his own kerchief (he should have  _ known _ teaching her those knots was a bad idea) and naked from the waist up. Gwen was eyeing her like a mountain lion eyeing an injured deer.

Hell, she was looking like one with those claws she had on her fingers. Deep red, freshly bloodied. It felt like she was going to tear into him, and yet every nerve in his body was anticipating it. It was even worse as she strode towards him, heels clicking on his wooden floors. And the closer she drew, the shallower his breathing got, the more his heart rate accelerated. She dropped a brief kiss on his mouth, then another. A bit longer, a bit slower. And so it went, until he realized with a jolt that it had been a distraction. A perfectly executed one to boot.

She’d been distracting him from the first blow. A brief strike. A scratch. She’d scratched him. Gwen had actually taken her blood red nails and scratched him. He wanted to speak, but the glimmer in her eyes silenced him. Just like a cat who knew it was doing wrong but was intent on doing it anyways, she was smug as her hand reached for his exposed flesh again. It wasn’t painful this time, as she lightly raked her fingernails down his chest. But it was agonizing, the little trails of fire that tingled in their wake. Over and over she did this, tracing over his pecs, sometimes pressing harder in certain spots just to wrestle a gasp or a groan out of him. She looked so satisfied every time she could do that.

“Gwen, what are you-” but every word, every protest was silenced with a kiss. To his lips, to his jaw. The latter she would punctuated by lightly tracing one of her nails along his throat, tickling his Adam’s apple, dipping into the hollow of his throat, the divot of his collarbone.

“I miss you,” was the unspoken words she conveyed with every touch, “I wanted to see you so badly”

Gwen drew a finger near her mouth, the blood red color of the nail a contrast against the pink of her lipstick that had nearly been kissed off. Another message, “I want you, I love you, I need you.”

The back of her hand ran softly against his cheek, and he felt the cool slide of the smooth polish as it tickled the fine hairs on his face. But David was distracted by the other hand. By those blood red nails as they slowly, painstakingly, slipped a button from its hole. One by one by one. And then the blood of her nails was against the earth of her skin and David nearly swallowed his tongue.

He remembered what the color reminded him of, his hair. And he felt stupid. She was telling him the color made her think of him. But she was also telling him what that color, his color, represented to her. Red was not the color of passion, not for them. Red was the color of trust, of bravery, of the willingness to take a risk. Red was more than the color of love. Red was the color of  _ their _ love.

Red was the same color his wrists were after several hours spent in the most wonderfully agonizing, deliciously torturous, and lascivious way possible. Red was the color of the bitemarks spread over his skin. Red was the color of his cheeks as he strove to catch his breath. Red was the color of Gwen’s nails as they rested daintily on his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me a comment and tell me what you thought. Until next time!


End file.
